


Harry Potter and the New Age

by What_a_Winchester_Wants



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (kind of), Autistic!Harry, Brat Draco, Gen, Manipulative Dumbledore, Smart Lucius Malfoy, apathetic!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 22:31:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11815500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_a_Winchester_Wants/pseuds/What_a_Winchester_Wants
Summary: Harry Potter has to deal with being different from the start. Starts in first year, AU.





	Harry Potter and the New Age

Harry woke up with at start, almost hitting his head on the bottom of the stairs. After reorientating himself, Harry sat with his back against the wall of his cupboard thinking about the dream he'd woken up from. Although you wouldnt be able to tell by looking at the boy, his mind was reeling from the information he had processed.

You see, Harry Potter was different from the majority of those around him for several different reasons. He could remember almost every conversation he has ever had, making talking to others tiring. If he actually tried, he could work out problems in his maths and science classes with ease while the rest of the students in his class struggled. He also had trouble expressing some emotions while others were practically nonexistent. He didn't feel guilt or remorse, he didn't feel empathy, and he didn't really care a lot about other people.

That's not to say that he was mean, or that he seemed different compared to others enough to raise any questions. He was a great actor, probably one of the best in the world. Not because he could act well on stage, but because he acted out the emotions he didn't or couldn't feel by observing others.

And that brings us back to the situation at hand: Harry Potter sitting in his cupboard under the stairs, contemplating the dream - no, memory - he just had. He saw people he didn't recognize but looked so much like him that he assumed they were his parents, as well as another man who looked as if he could have been handsome once, but something changed the structure of his face into a more serpentine form. After muffled words were exchanged a bright acid-green light shot from a stick the serpent man was holding and raced to what he presumed was his mother, then another towards him. He woke up after that, his scar on his head throbbing painfully.

Harry decided several things in that moment: the first being to never expect a true answer out of his aunt's or uncle's mouth, the second was to find out the truth about his parents. From the look of his dream, it seemed as if the weird energy used by his parents murderer was a type of magic or something.

It was then that Harry remembered the unexplainable things that had happened around him. His aunt and uncle seemed to think he had been the one to turn his teacher's hair blue and transport himself onto the gym roof at school - what if they were right? They had basically told him magic was real by punishing him when that had happened.

Hearing footsteps coming down the hallway upstairs, Harry quickly and quietly laid back down and pretended to be asleep just in case Aunt Petunia decided to open his cupboard door to wake him up - if she saw him sitting up and awake she would either assume he had been up to something he shouldn't have been or decide that he should wake up earlier.

'Boy! Wake up!' she said as she rapped her knuckles on the door and unlocked it. 'It's time to make breakfast, and I won't have you ruining it on my Dudder's big day.'

'Coming, Aunt Petunia,' he said just loud enough for her to best him as she walked into the kitchen. Sighing, Harry resigned himself to another day of abuse and neglect from the Dursleys.

As usual, for Dudley's birthday, Harry was shoved into the cupboard after breakfast was made (by him) and he was carted off to Mrs. Figg.

'Ten is a big number, and I won't have you ruining it with any of your freakishness,' Aunt Petunia said waspishly. 'If you so much as glare at by baby boy when you get back, you will wish your horrid mother and father had never had the displeasure of having you!'

After having said her piece, she slammed the front door in his face, almost smashing his nose in the process. Although this happened all the time, Harry still felt the sharp sting of tears behind his eyes.

Figuring the Dursley's wouldn't care if he actually went to Mrs. Figg's place or not, Harry headed towards the main road leading to the local library, making sure to stay behind the hedges so his aunt and uncle wouldn't see him when they drove by. He had to ignore the looks he got from wearing Dudley's humongous cast-offs when he walked through the building, as well as the glares from the neighbors that recognized him as "the criminal".

Harry walked through the dusty shelves near the history section in the very back of the library, taking in the titles on the spines of the books he could see. It was then that he saw a slight shimmer out of the corner of his eye. Turning quickly, thinking it was someone who had followed him, Harry resisted the urge to run in the opposite direction. Glancing around for possible threats, he walked towards the source of the distraction.

He watched in amazement as a whole section of library appeared out of nowhere. As he read the titles, he was sure that it was one big joke. Arithmancy and its Effects on Magic, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Defence from a Magic Most Evil, and How Potions Can Be Used In Your Household were just some of what the spines read. Picking up a few of the titles he just read, Harry settled down for a good laugh, making sure that the isles were just as empty as they were before.

Although he couldn't understand several of the words, he had taken to using one of the unabridged dictionaries that were lying in the bottom of the history shelves, probably taken from the reference section downstairs. Slowly making his way through The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Harry was starting to understand some of what was being said.

By the end of the day, and it was time for Harry to return, magical theory was running through his head. He had to run out of the library, barely even noticing the glares and surprised glances thrown his way, in order to make it to Mrs. Figg's front yard before his relatives did. He knew they saw him but they continued down the road, not wanting to have him sully their car with the dirt he no doubt had on him. When Harry made it home, Dudley was aching to brag about the fun things he had done on his birthday. Harry knew better than to tell anyone what he had actually done that day. Not only had he disobeyed his aunt's orders, he had spent his time reading about magic. 

This continued on for weeks after school left out. Harry was locked out of the house at the beginning of the day, with expectation to come home before Dudley. (He rather thought they were hoping he would get kidnapped while he was out.) He would head to the library and make sure nobody saw him go into the secret section of magic books.

Harry continuously bounced from book to book, reading about what interested him at the time. It wasn't until he read one of the last chapters in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts that his breath caught in his throat. The chapter was called "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named".

And the first line in the chapter had his name in it. "Harry James Potter".


End file.
